Poet In All His States Poem by MARIE CLAIN

Poet in all his states

The poet runs in the forest of words
He captures here and there the fruit of freedom

the poet swims in the oceans of feelings
he is rocked by the waves and scented by the foam
They cradle on the undulations of the words of his skin

The poet flies in the cottony sky looking for a painting
He is the postman travelers of the poetic letters
Idylic lovers of universal painting

The poet is the globe trotting emotions on paved roads
By lovers of all times who leave the loan of their souls
Signage at the crossroads of meetings

the poet sings with migratory birds
It gives them warm momentum for the extreme cold of the North
Or give them the freshness for the great heat of the South

The poet is the ultimate counselor of states of souls
It brings the delights of the garden of words where
Floating sometimes the flavors of the ghosts of unfinished loves

The poet is the ultimate asylum of feelings not consumed
Not spoken, not lived among the infinites of the infinite
Which gives the poet his infinite limits of fantasy.

The poet runs in the forest of words
He captures here and there the fruit of freedom

the poet swims in the oceans of feelings
he is rocked by the waves and scented by the foam
They cradle on the undulations of the words of his skin

The poet flies in the cottony sky looking for a painting
He is the postman travelers of the poetic letters
Idylic lovers of universal painting

The poet is the globe trotting emotions on paved roads
By lovers of all times who leave the loan of their souls
Signage at the crossroads of meetings

the poet sings with migratory birds
It gives them warm momentum for the extreme cold of the North
Or give them the freshness for the great heat of the South

The poet is the ultimate counselor of states of souls
It brings the delights of the garden of words where
Floating sometimes the flavors of the ghosts of unfinished loves

The poet is the ultimate asylum of feelings not consumed
Not spoken, not lived among the infinites of the infinite
Which gives the poet his infinite limits of fantasies.